


Childhood Scars

by MathIsMagic



Series: Matching Scars Companion Fics [1]
Category: Dreaming of Sunshine, Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Doubly Recursive Fanfiction, Dreaming of Sunshine - Freeform, Gen, OC character - Freeform, Recursive Fanfiction, Silver Queen's Dreaming of Sunshine Universe, Soulmates, Uchiha OC, matching scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7837099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathIsMagic/pseuds/MathIsMagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Madara and Izuna Uchiha grow up with an extra sword hanging over their heart, in the form of their sickly baby sister.</p><p> </p><p>Prequel to Laural Rose's "Matching Scars." Recursive Fic of Silver Queen's "Dreaming of Sunshine." Links in the Notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Childhood Scars

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Matching Scars](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/223102) by Laural Rose. 
  * Inspired by [Dreaming of Sunshine](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/53648) by Silver Queen. 



> As I mentioned, this fic is a prequel to "Matching Scars," which starts her on the DoS Soulmark Thread here: https://www.fanfiction.net/topic/180237/149681642/10/Soulmark-Fic-and-Discussion#150249835
> 
> (The rest of the links can be found in the Index here:  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/topic/180237/141339722/2/Index-page#154796006  
> just cntrl+F for 'Matching Scars.')
> 
> which in itself is the soulmate AU to a couple posts I made over on the DoS Recursive thread:  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/topic/180237/137948546/167/Recursive-Fanfiction
> 
> which in itself is something of a historical AU of Silver Queen's "Dreaming of Sunshine."  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7347955/1/Dreaming-of-Sunshine
> 
> I don't think reading any of that is necessary, if you're able to grasp the concept of "Madara has a younger sister who is constantly getting hurt by an injury-sharing soulbond" but "Dreaming of Sunshine" and "Matching Scars" are amazing, so I highly recommend you do so.

Uchiha Mikako is not even twenty-four hours old – is not even supposed to be born for a few weeks yet, according to Sayuri-Obasan – when the Uchiha compound is attacked.

“Take care of your sister! Protect her!” His mother tells a broken-legged Madara as she races, still recovering from a difficult childbirth, into battle.

“I will!” Madara swears his first oath in his life. It is not his last oath – as a shinobi and as clan head, there are many oaths to swear– but it is the one that will always be closest to his heart.

With their mother’s death, Mikako is found new caretakers. That doesn’t stop Madara from reminding everyone, by both word and deed, that Mikako was entrusted to him when he’s home between deployments. Not that he’s sure what to do with her yet, so he mostly just ends up walking around with her in his arms, trying to do his work one-handed. Izuna feels very put out by it all.

“Come train with me,” Izuna whines.

“Later. And be quiet. Mikako is asleep.” It’s too late for that; Mikako’s eyes are already blinking open. She doesn’t cry, as Izuna knows is normal from the other babies he’s seen. Instead she giggles in delight and reaches up to tug on a lock of Izuna’s spiky hair.

“Ow!”

“Don’t be a baby. She’s a baby. That couldn’t have hurt.” Izuna grumbles and Mikako giggles some more. She reaches her other hand up too, trying to reach for Izuna.

“She wants you to hold her!” Madara exclaims, suddenly trying to push the little thing into Izuna’s arms.

“What? I don’t know how-“

“It’s easy! Here, make sure you support her head, and don’t jerk her around…”

Izuna suddenly finds himself carefully cradling the small baby. She’s so… alive. Holding her, feeling her heartbeat against his, seeing her smile for him, the way no one but Madara does… Izuna finds he understands Madara’s fascination much more now.

“Wow. She’s so… warm.”

“Yeah.”

“And squishy.”

“Yeah.”

“And… kinda cute.”

“I know.”

“…I think I like her.”

Madara gives his brother, his rival, his best friend a beaming smile. “Me too.” 

Mikako, apparently having grown tired of all the staring, is calming down and falling back asleep. Madara says, more quietly, “C’mon. I’ll get a basket, and we can take her with us and I’ll show you that shuriken jutsu while she naps. Neither boy sees Mikako crack one eye open and smile indulgently at them.

XxXxX

Madara is ghosting through their house, having finally been allowed out of the clan meeting, when he hears Izuna’s voice coming from their personal family library. 

“Madara! Help!” The urgent whisper would normally induce much more worry for his younger brother, but Madara can hear just enough of a whine in the words that he’s more curious than concerned as he cracks the library door open. What he sees forces Madara to activate his Sharingan; he never wants to forget this.

Izuna is sprawled out on his stomach, a scroll open in front of him and a pained expression on his face. Little Mikako had, evidently, decided that her brother was a much more comfortable bed than the blankets they had laid out for her; she seemed to have crawled on to Izuna’s back and fallen asleep.

Izuna catches his brother’s eye and hisses quietly, “Don’t just stand there like an idiot. Help me.”

“What’s the matter, Izuna, you can’t fight off a baby all on your own?”

Izuna glares and Madara’s smirk turns into a real smile.

“How do you propose I get her off without knocking her off me or waking her up?”

“It’s not that big of a deal she wakes up. You didn’t have to lay there until someone came by.”

“Fine. You wake her up then.”

Madara answers by carefully gathering his sleeping sister up; they both know he’s not going to do that. Not when she’s already, apparently, too tired and inactive for a typical child.

“I know you know the chakra control exercises that would have allowed you to get up with her. Why not just get up with her stuck to your back?”

“She’s chakra hypersensitive. I thought that might hurt her.” 

Madara’s grip on Mikako tightens just a little, thought not enough to wake her. Mikako’s usually such a bright and happy child, he just… forgets, that she has the most crippling condition a shinobi family could think of. Izuna continues, oblivious to Madara’s own self-recriminations. “I… I don’t ever want to hurt you guys.”

“You won’t, Izuna.” Madara shifts so Mikako is cradled in one arm, then reaches out his other hand to pull Izuna up and into a hug. He holds his siblings close, just for a moment, then lets the earlier teasing seep back into his voice, to break the heaviness of this moment. "Not that you could hurt me, slow as your sword work has been lately."

"I'll show you slow-" Madara dodges Izuna's exaggerated lunge, happy that his brother isn't frowning anymore.

"Tomorrow. Or at least after I put Kako down. Though I could probably do that before you even catch up to me." Izuna comes after him again in exaggerated outrage, but Madara's already gone, stifling his laughter in the quiet of the night.

XxXxX

Several months later, Madara teaches Mikako to walk.

He thinks she’s doing a good job of it, even if her lips purse in adorable frustration every time her little legs wobble and she loses her balance. He’s just feeling confident enough to let her take a few steps completely unassisted when it happens. 

Her breath hitches in surprise, though Madara’s brave little sister doesn’t scream, and the blood drains from her face. No, the blood is draining from everywhere. 

Madara catches Mikako as she collapses forward. Blood seeps through the back of her unbroken yukata. He shunshins to the medics, but he can’t tell them how it happened and their jutsus can’t heal it and they’re just trying to keep her from bleeding out, because it turns out that sword swipes on someone the size of a toddler hit way, way too many important things. Madara can’t do anything but watch in terror.

“What happened?” Izuna bursts in and comes to a stop at his brother’s side.

“Soul bond, they think. Her soulmate didn’t fully dodge someone’s katana.” Madara is staring at his own hands, covered in Mikako’s drying blood, so he doesn’t see the way Izuna’s lips twist in disgust at his explanation.

Mikako survives. Just like she survives the gut wound six months later, and then the broken ribs, and then the twisted wrist, the knife wounds, the burns, the broken leg, and every other injury her soulmate throws at her. It’s never quite so close as that first sword strike (not until that battle), especially as she grows and her body can tolerate the blood loss better. That doesn’t mean her brothers don’t hate it. 

(They hate her soulmate.)

XxXxX

Madara is out on a long mission when Mikako learns to speak properly. Returning home to the jubilant calls of, “Mada-ni!” however, was a welcome enough surprise that he doesn’t really regret it. Not until a few months later, at least, when he learns what kind of things Mikako is actually going to do with her newfound coherency. Namely, fight with their father during their family debriefing.

“Why can’t I learn? I want to protect my brothers and help our Clan – I want to fight!”

“Absolutely not!” Their Father is taut as a trapped ninja wire as he stares down his youngest child – and it is down, he his ;arger than her standing form from where he sits in seiza behind his low desk.

“Why? Everyone else in our family is a shinobi! What makes me special?”

“You can’t even mold chakra!”

“I can! Look!” And then Madara’s adorably angry sister waves a glowing hand in front of Tajima’s face, and thrill of fear shoots up his spine, despite the pride in his gut at her accomplishment. The Uchiha may always need more soldiers, but certainly this is not enough to sway anyone’s opinion on the matter? “I even have pretty good control.”

“And when your soulmate is injured while you’re in the middle of a battle?”

Mikako on a battlefield. Mikako collapsing instead of dodging. Mikako bleeding out for real this time. No.

“They hardly slow me down, anymore. Besides, you never know when any shinobi is injured in battle, I would be no different, really-“

“You are never going to be a shinobi!”

Madara knows that tone of voice, and he feels himself relax. She is not going to win this one, no matter how many logical arguments she could pull out. Tajima Uchiha is a bullheaded man who will stick to his views unless completely overwhelmed logically and emotionally. Madara had only ever seen him change his mind a handful of times, and there is no way the only child who inherited his wife’s smile is going to convince Tajima that she should be on the battlefield with her brothers. 

He silently cheers that Mikako will never suffer that particular trauma.

“Fine. Then at least let me learn enough to defend myself. How can you ask me to rely on others to protect me, as often as our defenses are stripped for battle?”

Madara’s priorities rearrange as he remembers how their mother was lost despite being ‘safely’ in the compound. There are already so many injuries Mikako cannot fight; Madara does not want to ask her not to protect herself from the ones she can.

“Enough!” Their father rises, towering over Madara’s littlest sister. “You will do as you are told, Mikako, and be silent about it.”

Mikako opens her mouth, clearly not ready to let her father drop it like that and Madara sees his father’s face twist in anger. He looks like he might actually strike her – unacceptable – so Madara intervenes.

“If that’s all for tonight, Father,” Madara steps forward to scoop Mikako up, pressing her face into his chest where she can’t keep arguing, “I will put Mikako to bed.”

Tajima sinks back to his knees, head bowed, as anger seeps into weariness. With a sigh, he waves his hand and dismisses his children. “Go.”

“Madara.” She hisses when they’re away from their father.

“I will teach you when I can,” He whispers quickly, cutting her off lest her anger transfer to him. “Kunai, shurikan, senbon… all the ranged and defensive techniques I know.”

“Me too,” Izuna whispers from where he had fallen into step behind him, as always.

Mikako is taken aback; her eyes snap between her two oldest brothers. Slowly, a smile grows on her face. “Thank you.”

Izuna snorts. “Don’t thank us yet, Kako-chan. Madara might be a big softy, but I am going to run you into the ground.” Madara punches at his brother, but Mikako grins.

“Bring it on, Zuzu.” She actually looks eager for the challenge.

Madara rolls his eyes, but he knows that neither he nor his brother really has it in them to be intentionally harsh on her.

That doesn't mean she doesn’t get some raised eyebrows when they sneak her out to the training grounds with them the next morning and she knows exactly how to hold and throw the kunai they start her out on. Oh, she’s not very good yet – knowing how and being able to get uncoordinated children’s muscles to cooperate are not the same thing – but the basis is there.

“Someone’s been practicing behind everyone’s backs,” Madara drawls.

“Yeah, and I’ll practice a lot more now, if you guys leave me a set of kunai to work with.”

Madara smiles, happy to do these little things to help Mikako learn self-defense. Between her soulmate and the constant attacks on their clan, too many threats hang over her head. He swore to protect her, but he's aware that he may not be able to fight them all. Making sure she can hold out against the tangible ones is the least he can do.

XxXxX

Madara hesitates to teach Mikako even E-ranked jutsu; afraid it will hurt her and her hypersensitive chakra system. Izuna, though, chooses to believe her when she says she’ll be fine, and teaches her the Replacement in secret. He carefully doesn’t wonder what he would have done if Mikako had been wrong; doesn’t want to know how he weighs the benefits of Kako’s life against her pain. Madara is – briefly – very put out that Izuna went behind his back, but Mikako sets their eldest brother with those determined eyes that are more adorable than intentional puppy eyes and says that at least Izuna believed her and now she’s that much more capable of surviving.

Madara melts, and all is forgiven.

Ironically, it is in stepping up her escape, evasion and stealth training that their father finally catches on to his children’s schemes. Izuna and Madara get sent on an arduous two-week mission; Mikako is restricted from leaving their home for the same amount of time. The brothers return home, not to Mikako’s demure obedience, but to their Father’s acceptance of their plans, albeit with some additional restrictions. Mikako’s light training becomes a supervised affair, occasionally with other young and non-shinobi children, at Mikako’s insistence. Izuna assumes this is where Mikako came up with the harebrained idea to turn training into a game.

All Izuna knows, is, one day, he and Madara return from a mission to the sound of children’s laughter, and a sustained series of delighted squeals.

The sounds are unusual enough, and their mission uneventful enough, that Izuna and Madara decide they can investigate before debriefing. What they find is a training ground filled with children and young shinobi chasing each other around with gratuitous use of Replacement.

One of the relatively older boys with a red bandana – one of the clan’s actual shinobi – is bearing down on the blue-headband-wearing Mikako. Izuna’s ready to intervene despite it obviously being part of the game – because how dare the boy go after his tiny little sister? - when Mikako is suddenly gone, Replaced by another child with a red band. The first boy careens into him, much to the blue team’s amusement.

“I’ll get you for that, Mikako!” The boy who had just tagged out his own teammate vows.

“No Replace-backs!” Mikako taunts in a sing-song voice as she leaps between two distant trees.

Izuna grins, wondering if he’s too old to be allowed in on the next round, when he notices the frowning adults observing the game.

“They shouldn’t be wasting time like this. It was bad enough when it was the children, now even our young shinobi are joining in. If they’re going train, they should train.” One of the old men grumbles.

“Let them have some fun!” Madara counters angrily. Madara had long dreamed of a world where children could be children, and for once, Izuna is in agreement. How could these geezers look at laughing children, at Mikako’s brilliant smile, and frown?

“At least,” Madara continues, “They’re practicing skills that might help them survive. Isn’t that the point of everything? Leave them be!”

Madara staunchly defends his declaration in the days that follow, and the mutterings against the game die down into quiet grumblings. Those grumblings die down completely when the value of the game is definitively shown.

The moment Izuna sees the smoke in the distance, horror shoots through his veins. It’s coming from the compound, from home. Their hard-won battle was nothing more than a distraction for their enemies to strike at their undefended hearts.

Mikako!

Izuna is racing; the whole party is racing back to their loved ones. Madara has already shot ahead; he was always the more physical of the two. Izuna envies it, for once; here, his mind does nothing but conjure up scenarios of the horrors they might be returning to...

The gates have held, despite the evidence of explosives around the perimeter. That means very little, in the face of a determined shinobi assault, but… it’s something. Some meager defense for his precious-

“They breached to the South! The shrine-“

Izuna doesn’t need to hear the rest of the man’s report, he’s already moving after Madara, who had moved straight for the shrine, where the non-combatants – where the children – would shelter, without pause. 

The compound had been breached, just like all those years ago, but this time, Mikako did not have Madara here to protect her. Mikako was alone, undefended. Mikako could be, she could be-

Completely fine.

Mikako stands in front of the rubble of the half-ruined Uchiha shrine, directing repairs and medical aid and just generally keeping the other children working smoothly instead of panicking. Madara reaches her and sinks to his knees to pull her into a tight hug.

“Oh! Mada-ni! Zuna-ni! You guys are oka- put that down you don’t know what it might be trapped with!” Mikako yells at one of the civilian teenagers admiring an assailant’s sword. One eye still on her fellow non-shinobi, Mikako turns a brilliant smile on her brothers, completely unperturbed by the battle damage scarring the scenery around them.

Izuna takes that as an invitation for him to step forward and join his siblings. Mikako shifts in Madara’s embrace just enough to reach out her hand and take Izuna’s in it. He squeezes it, reassuring himself that she’s fine, and then steels himself to ask, “How bad was it?” Izuna whispers tensely. How many did we lose?

Mikako shakes her head. “I don’t think we lost anyone here, though there were some close calls. Enough of us could Replace with each other to keep throwing the enemy off.”

“…Replace?”

“Oh, you should have seen them! They performed beautifully.” Mikako beams with pride as she glances over at the many cousins who had joined in her games. Izuna understands the feeling.

XxXxX

Mikako cries when her brothers are killed. Mikako, Madara’s baby sister who never cries – not as a baby, not from injuries that would fell grown men – breaks down sobbing over their brothers’ bodies. Shinobi are not supposed to cry so openly, but Mikako is not a shinobi. (Will never be a shinobi, Madara reminds his heart; a promise, and a prayer.) Her brothers deserve to have someone freely shed tears for them.

Madara is more surprised by the tears at their father’s death. Mikako had never been close to him, not like she was to her brothers. Still, fat tears roll down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking quietly. It’s only later, in the privacy of their own home, that he can pull her into a hug and try to chase away those last tears hiding behind her eyes. She shakes her head at his comforts.

“They’re going to ask so much of you,” she whispers. “I don’t want to lose you to that, but I don’t know how I can help you.”

His heart aches, knowing that she lets worry for him burden her.

“It’s okay, Kako. You just keep being you. I’ll always be okay, as long as I have your smiles, alright? I’ll be fine, as long as you know how much I love you.”

She sniffles, trying to keep control her tears, and buries her face in his shoulder. “I love you too, Mada-ni.”

Madara presses a kiss into her hair, letting her love steady him. He allows himself a count of five to revel in it, and then glances up to where he had felt Izuna quietly step into the room. Izuna takes that as permission to finally intrude.

Izuna steps forward, close enough to rub Mikako's back soothingly. "Don't worry so much. We can both help Madara take on the things asked of him, okay, Mikako?" 

For an instant, there is a promise in Izuna's eyes, that he will take on enough that these things will not crush either of his siblings. Then Mikako looks up at both of them with a slowly growing smile, and it's gone.

Madara doesn't forget.

XxXxX

Izuna stumbles into their quiet home just before dawn. The mission had been a rough one; the opposing side had hired the Senju. It was… close. Closer than Izuna would like to admit, because that damnable Tobirama is still a step ahead of him, no matter how hard Izuna trains. If Tobirama hadn’t been perfectly positioned to be kicked off that cliff… well. Izuna was able to bring all of his clansmen home. Takeshi may never hold a sword or cast a jutsu again, but… they’re all alive. 

Unfortunately, Tobirama probably is too; Izuna had to rush Takeshi back to the compound and the clan healers, so he hadn’t been able to finish the bastard off. Another time, hopefully.

Between the mission, that last fight, the sprint home, and the worry, Izuna is ready to collapse into bed and sleep for the next three days.

As he trudges to his room, he realizes Mikako’s door is slightly ajar. It’s been their signal, ever since Aunti Natsuo died and Mikako started being left home alone when he and Madara are both out on missions. He’s meant to close it, so that if she wakes up in the middle of the night and can’t see moonlight in the hall, she knows at least one of her brothers has made it home safely.

She probably doesn’t know that he appreciates the excuse to check in on her as much as she likes being able to keep track of them.

Except when he peers into the dark room, it’s not Mikako’s tiny sleeping form that he sees.

The bed is mussed, the blankets strewn like she had been dragged out of them. The door into the courtyard is flung open, though it should be closed and locked at this time of night. Connecting the two; a trail of blood.

Mikako!

He bursts through her door into the small garden in the center of their home. His eyes quickly scan the trail of blood, following it to the slumped, broken form in the dirt.

“Mikako! What happened? Who did this?” Because she needs healing, but he daren’t give her his sole focus until he can ensure she’s safe, as safe as he can make her. It’s probably the monster who bonded their wounds to her, but this could have been a precision attack. Izuna’s not sure which is worse. An intruder that made it into the center of the Uchiha compound undetected to brutalize a child… or some stranger that’s doesn’t so much as have to see Mikako, doesn’t even have to be near her to cause the same effect.

“Woke up… like this…” She gasps out with pained, wheezing breaths.

“The bond,” it comes out like a curse, and he barely keeps the sneer off his face. Even his disgust and fury can’t make him twist his lips at Mikako. Not now. Not when she might finally-

“Think so… Think someone… dropped some rocks on them. Or maybe a mountain.” She pauses and wheezes, like that was supposed to be a joke. Izuna worries he’ll scream if he tries to put on a fake smile for her efforts. She continues, “Thought… patrol might… see me.” Oh his stupid, brilliant little sister. To drag her self out into the open, despite her pain… but what other choice did she have, with him and Madara gone, always gone? “I know they… can’t help… just wanted… not alone.”

Izuna’s heart, already cracked by his sister’s misery, shatters.

“You won’t be. You won’t die alone. I promise. I’ll… I’ll… You won’t die alone.” He clutches her to him, guilt spiking when she flinches in pain, but not high enough to make him let her go.

Her eyes, old and weary in a way he wishes they never were, close. “Thank you, Izuna,” she whispers back. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he murmurs. Always and always and forever. All thoughts of sleep forgotten, he cradles her like that that rest of the night, praying she will survive to see the sunshine she so desperately deserves. His heart is achingly relieved when she does.

XxXxX

“We can’t starve our shinobi, Madara. If our warriors can’t eat and replenish their chakra, we’ll be overrun.”

“I know, Izuna. I know. I just don’t know how we can justify starving the very people we fight to protect, either. If the winter hadn’t…”

“But it did. We have to keep our fighters in top condition if we’re going to pull through this.”

“The children are going to be hit so hard, though. If we lose them, what future does our clan have then?”

Tiny arms encircle Madara’s neck and a warm little form presses itself to his back. Tension Madara didn’t even realize he had been holding bleeds out under his sister’s embrace. He cranes his neck to look at her where she’s put her chin over his shoulder.

“What are you still doing up?”

“I could ask the same of you,” she says in the bossy tone that usually amuses Madara enough that he’ll go along with it. “I heard nothing in that discussion that had to be decided tonight. Better to sleep on it and come up with the best possible solution, than force an answer from circular arguments tonight.”

He glances back at Izuna, who’s watching them with something in his eyes. “We need to-“

“No.” Izuna cuts him off. “She’s right. We can finish this discussion in the morning.” With that, he rises and leaves without waiting for Madara’s permission. Madara knows his brother’s personality too well to be offended, though.

“Well, you chased my verbal sparring partner away. I guess I have not choice but to bundle you into bed to make sure you stay there.” He grabs her arms before she can draw back and stands up, forcing her into a piggyback. 

“Brother,” she complains as he carries her to her room.

And, if he finds in the morning that his papers have been carefully reorganized in such a way that implies a solution his father had ignored, Madara can be forgiven for assuming it to be Izuna’s dedicated handiwork.

XxXxX

Izuna stopped the blade from reaching Madara. That’s all that matters.

Madara’s fine, and heading home from another battle. His big brother is fine; he’ll take care of Mikako. His Clan Head his fine; they still have their leader. What else matters, beyond those things?

(Dying. Dying matters. He could die from this. He doesn’t want to, loathes that he fears it, when Madara is unharmed. Mikako is safe. The Clan will be fine.)

No, nothing matters beyond those things. Not the way his vision keeps graying and the sounds of the world keep fading out. Certainly not the agonizing pain in his stomach. Not even the worry in Madara’s eyes; because that determined fire still burns in them.

(Madara will not fall if Izuna does, he is certain. Mikako will pull him back, and be all the more treasured for it. So Madara will be unharmed. Mikako will stay safe. The Clan will be fine.)

Madara leaves Izuna’s side to rain actual fire down upon their straggling pursuers, and the kunoichi carrying him comes down hard, sending a lance of pain completely blacks out his sight for a moment.

More than a moment; those are the compound gates, no this is the meager Uchiha medicine hall. Healers – no Madara – yes, healers look down on him. Mikako looks too, holds onto a shaking Madara, who will never throw her off, not even for this. (Not even if he is dying.) That thought holds clear through the haze…

…Which is… easing.

“…It’s working. He’s no longer going into shock.”

“I told you. You think I don’t know how to ease the pain of a sword wound? I’ve survived more of these than anyone else here.” 

Izuna sees Madara recoil and feels a lurch in his gut. 

(Madara is not unharmed, now. Mikako is not, is never safe. How can the clan ever be fine, with a sword hanging over its heart?)

Izuna doesn't need to be reminded of the unfair pains his sister has valiantly endured in her short life. He has never, for an instant, forgotten it, forgotten his failure. That doesn’t mean he wants her to acknowledge it, especially in front of Madara. He has tried, so hard, to help her hold the pain (this pain, the agony of dying, how does she do it?) but it’s never enough. He is not enough, not even to spare his siblings.

He’s sorry he can’t stop her assailant. Isn’t that, and this pain, enough a penance to keep Madara from hurting too? No, of course it’s not. Izuna’s scale is not nearly balanced with his sister’s. Especially when she keeps insisting on doing things like this, adding weight to the things he owes her.

A small hand worms its way into his.

“Zuzu? Can you hear me? I need you to stay with me now, okay? What’s our rule?”

It’s a struggle, but Izuna forces the sounds from his mouth; he can’t let her down in this, can’t let the scales tip that much further. “No… dine.”

“Yeah, no dying, okay? You’re going to be fine now.”

He wants to believe her; wants never to doubt his sister’s words. 

There are many things Izuna wants that he is not enough to achieve, though. He wants his family to be happy. He wants not to die. He wants to be strong enough to tell his baby sister to go back and hold Madara again. 

Izuna is weak, and so rarely gets what he wants.

The healers try to peel Mikako away from him. “We really do need to finish this surgery, Madara-sama, and Mikako-chan needs to be checked as well. This time, maybe the healers can do something…”

Mikako has been harmed! Even in the compound, the clan wasn’t safe. If they both died, Madara would not be fine.

“I’m not leaving Izuna! This is nothing.” 

Izuna now feels, acutely, the agony Mikako has shrugged off, and shrinks at what Mikako might call ‘nothing.’

“Mikako…” Madara’s voice cracks.

“Don’t ‘Mikako’ me, Madara! I’m fine – I might even be able to help more. I won’t be in the way.”

Izuna thinks the silence stretches, though time still seems to be passing oddly. Mikako should go, if the healers can do anything for her…

The small, weak part of him wants her to stay. But already his thoughts are clearing, meaning he’s more likely to live. He shouldn’t want for more.

“Let her stay.”

That’s Madara’s Clan Head voice, the one that had been wavering from Izuna’s injury until now. A small, strong hand squeezes his in triumph and contentment. The healers resume their work, at a much less frantic pace.

Madara was unharmed. Mikako was safe. The Clan would be fine.

Izuna will live to help keep it that way a little longer.


End file.
